WHAT Did You Say?
by robertwnielsen
Summary: Sometimes, the words we say can get us into more trouble than we bargain for.  And sometimes, they can make our dreams come true.
1. Chapter 1

_WHAT Did You Say?_

_Disclaimer – _Don't own 'em...but wish to heck I did.

A/N – This story was inspired by NettieC's excellent (not to mention hilarious) JAG fic _Once A Pun A Time JAG._ This story will stand apart from any and all previous works, and, for purposes of continuity, Hawke and Caitlin are not together at the beginning of the story, which takes place sometime after the S3 episode "Half-Pint," to allow for the character of Le. The line "the only stupid question is the one you never ask" comes from an old pen pal of mine, when he was attending the US Naval Academy, and the new line "Do not operate _mouth_ unless **brain** is engaged" comes from my father. Thanks, Dad.

_She's my _**friend. **_Nothing more, nothing less. _And yet, Stringfellow Hawke had been allowing his mind to go places it hadn't gone in a long time..._and, _String said to himself, _places my mind shouldn't be going now. _There was always the possibility of him buying it on a stunt, or a mission. Or, the possibility of Caitlin O'Shannessy packing her bags and heading back to Texas. The first two worries he could live with. The third, if he dwelt on it too much, would undoubtedly kill him. _Or gimme a lifetime full of bills, __as Dom once said__. _Just then, he heard another voice in his head—_Right, String. She's just a friend. If you believe that, then I've got a piece of ocean front property in Arizona to sell you, and I'll throw __in the Golden Gate Bridge for free._ Suddenly, String had to laugh at the thought that had crossed his mind. _Sounds like lyrics for a country music song,_ he said to himself as he tried to push the thoughts of Caitlin out of his head again.

Ever since he'd met Caitlin, Hawke had been fighting some very deep and quite unprofessional feelings for his young co-worker, and, he had to admit, best friend. And, he _also_ had to admit how attractive she was. He'd seen the way men had looked at her, especially in those tight blue jeans she had taken to wearing recently, and he had reluctantly admitted to himself that he hadn't been very comfortable with the idea of another man staring at Caitlin that way—and that was when he'd allowed his mind and heart to go to the forbidden place—the place that involved Caitlin O'Shannessy standing in front of him wearing nothing but her million-dollar smile. Or, laying naked on her back in his bed, wearing nothing but her million-dollar smile. And, his mind had returned to that place many times in the past month and five days, much to his frustration. He knew he could never act on his thoughts, because of the curse he thought he had...the curse that anyone he loved, or _might love, _would die. But sometimes...

Shaking his head, Hawke tried to concentrate on the paperwork he was staring at, until the object of his thoughts came into the office looking for him. "Hey, Hawke. What's up?" Hawke heard Caitlin O'Shannessy's voice behind him.

_Terrible choice of words, Caitlin. _Hawke knew very well what was "up." The same thing that was "up" practically every time he heard her voice lately. There was something about that Texas drawl of hers that Hawke had discovered was irresistible, in more ways than one. "Nothing," he mumbled, concentrating again on the paperwork before him as he tried, once again, to force the vision of her, naked, in his bed back at the cabin, out of his mind. _Which is where I'm going to be before long at this rate—_**completely out of**** my mind.** Hawke knew the absolute _last _thing he wanted to happen was for Caitlin to figure out what was "up" with him. _That would—__well, __I'd rather not think about that right now, _Hawke said to himself as he noticed that Caitlin had perched herself on the corner of the desk and glanced suggestively at him.

"_You're _doing paperwork?" Caitlin asked, incredulously, as she gazed lovingly down at String. "I can't believe it. You must be going soft."

"Believe it, Cait," Hawke grumbled, sliding his chair away from her, as he silently thanked a God that he wasn't sure he believed in that the large desk was hiding the betrayal of his body. _I had to do _**something** _to get those visions of you in the Airwolf flight suit, __and __visions of you demurely __stepping _**out **_of the Airwolf flight suit, out of my head. Trouble is, it's not working. Especially with you sitting that close to me and wearing that scent. _He'd never known Cait to wear perfume around him, but for some reason, she had today, and the fragrance, along with her general nearness to him, was making it even harder to concentrate. _Along with making something else harder, _Hawke mused to himself. Hawke winced at her "going soft" comment, knowing she meant it as a reference to his general dislike of paperwork, but also knowing that he hadn't "gone soft" in another way. _And I won't be as long as you're sitting on the corner of the desk and wearing that intoxicating scent._ In fact, Hawke figured that even if she moved away from him, he wouldn't be going soft any time soon.

"So?" Cait demanded, after realizing that Hawke was completely ignoring her, yet again.

"So_—__what?_" Hawke answered her question with a question of his own. He'd gotten so involved with staring at the numbers on the papers in front of him that he'd completely ignored the fact that she was trying to talk to him. _For more reasons than one. _Then, he added, "Sorry, Caitlin. I'm just trying to get this done. What did you say?" He felt embarrassed at how his first question had sounded—to his ears, it came out sounding incredibly harsh.

"So I was saying, Hawke," she said as she leaned closer to him to try to block his view of the papers strewn about the desk, "that Dom's gone home for the day, so why don't we lock this place up and grab some dinner? My treat?" She knew her suggestion would probably be met with Hawke's usual stone-cold ignorance, but she remembered something her dad once told her—_the only__ stupid question is the one you never ask. _So, Cait figured she might as well at least ask. _Heck, I might get lucky_.

"_WHAT did you say?" _Hawke demanded, and Caitlin realized that she'd said "I figured I'd ask. Heck, I might get lucky" out loud. _Oh, crap. I can't believe I said that out loud! _Her fair skin turned a deep shade of red.

"S-Sorry, Hawke," Cait stammered, embarrassed. "I was just—just thinkin' out loud."

"Sure, Cait. Whatever you say," Hawke said, and smiled at her, all the while thinking _I know exactly what she said. The question is, why __in the heck__ did she say it?_ "Gimme—ten minutes to straighten this up, and we're outta here," he promised. Then he realized something. _If I didn't know better, I'd swear Caitlin just asked me out for a date. _

"Sure, String," Cait said as she moved off the desk to a chair a few feet away from him. Sitting down again, Caitlin demurely crossed her legs as she said, "You doing paperwork. I have to say, I'm impressed." She smiled lovingly at him, even as thoughts of a decidedly naughty nature went through her mind. Then she said to herself, _I can't believe he said he'd go with me. Maybe—__maybe __things will start to change between us. I sure hope so._

"There's a lot of impressive things about me, Cait," Hawke said with a smile of his own, even as he tried to focus on the paperwork he was doing. _Great. __T__he longer she keeps distracting me, the longer it's gonna take to finish all this.__ And I was right. Even though she's moved away from me, I still haven't..."gone soft," _he winced inwardly as he realized he probably wouldn't in the foreseeable future, either.

"I just bet there are," Caitlin said, and batted her eyes flirtatiously at him. Now he knew he'd need twenty minutes.

Twenty-five minutes later (the extra five minutes necessitated because Caitlin moved back onto the desk and distracted him again), they took one of the patriotically-painted Jeeps to a restaurant a few blocks away from the hangar. Since neither Hawke nor Cait had eaten lunch, they were both starving. Fortunately, it didn't take them long to be seated.

"What are you gonna get, String?" Cait asked.

"Oh, probably the fish platter," Hawke admitted. "How about you?"

"Geez, I'm starving," she said. "I'm probably gonna get the baby back ribs with fries, and—_ooh—_Death by Chocolate for dessert," she said.

Hawke's first thought, which he was fortunately able to keep to himself, was _How the hell can you eat like that, and still have such an amazing body, Caitlin? Even the Airwolf flight suit looks—__looks __great on you._ He forced himself not to imagine Caitlin in the tightly-tailored flight suit. Or, demurely stepping _out of _the tightly-tailored flight suit. Not wanting to say that, or much of anything for that matter, Hawke mumbled, "Sounds good."

While they waited for dinner, their conversation was easy...the goings-on at the hangar, Dom's love life, or lack thereof, and other "safe" topics. Hawke knew he wouldn't bring Airwolf up, especially in a public place like this, and at the same time he worried that Caitlin would start talking about seeing him as "more than just a friend" again, as she'd been doing more of lately. Dominic had told him how she had said, "I care about him too, you know. _Probably more than you know," _before she and Dom had set out to rescue Hawke from Horn a few weeks prior. That statement had set warning bells off in Hawke's head, and he began wondering if accepting Caitlin's invitation had been such a great idea. _I could really end up regretting this, especially if Caitlin figures out why I've been wearing my shirts out lately._

Then, Hawke heard another voice in his head—a voice he'd been trying to silence permanently, but which had been bothering him a lot over the course of the past month and five days. _String, __you know she's good for you,_ the voice was saying. _And...it could be the beginning of something wonderful, and beautiful._

_Will you shut up?_ String quietly demanded of the voice in his head.

When the waiter brought their meals, Caitlin was genuinely shocked at the platter she received.

"_Wow!" _she exclaimed after the waiter departed. "Look at my rack! Have you ever seen a great-looking rack like this?"

Hawke choked on his water, but quickly recovered and said, "Um, no. I haven't." Even though he was looking at his plate, his mind was drifting again...and there was completely another "rack" on his mind. _We have _**got **_to discuss your choice of words, Caitlin, _Hawke grumbled to himself as he began eating.

Fortunately for Hawke, Caitlin's mouth and hands were quickly occupied by the food in front of her, sparing him any further embarrassment from saying something that would undoubtedly result in him getting a fat lip—or _worse—_from his co-worker.

_Caitlin, you would _**kick my ass** _if you knew what I was thinking right now. _And, Hawke knew she _could_ kick his ass, because she'd done it once before, during his rescue from Horn, when Hawke had been brainwashed and Caitlin had come to find him. He had attacked her, but she had fought back and bested him, before injecting him with an experimental antidote serum. _I had_ _a bruise for two weeks after that from where she kicked me, _Hawke mused.

Then, the voice he'd heard earlier began sounding in Hawke's head again, trying to tell him that since Caitlin _could_ kick _his_ ass (which he already knew she could), she was more than capable of defending herself. _So maybe_, the voice was saying, _you could give her a chance? _Just to shut the voice up, Hawke promised himself he would _seriously think _about what it was trying to tell him. _And that is a very good point. _

"So. Got any plans for the weekend?" Cait asked. Hawke had been so preoccupied with work and _other things_ that he'd forgotten it was Friday.

"Oh, the usual. Some fishing, reading, playing my cello; and exercising Tet, of course. Nothing big. You?"

"After I get a few errands run, probably just a long one on one relationship with my bed," Caitlin replied, and her eyes sparkled for some reason.

_Bed. Caitlin's bed._ Caitlin _in_ her bed in pyjamas, or a negligee—or _nothing at all—_and, _STOP THAT! _Hawke grumbled to himself as he finished his dinner, thankful for the large tablecloth that was preventing Caitlin from seeing his arousal.

"Hawke? You okay?" Cait asked, concerned.

"Nah. Yeah," Hawke said as he choked on his water again, not sure which he meant.

"Long as you're okay," Caitlin said and patted his arm. "You haven't been yourself lately, especially around me. And, I'm worried about you."

Hawke was relieved when the waiter returned with Caitlin's dessert, a mountainous concoction of anything chocolate, covered in more hot fudge and whipped cream than he'd ever seen in his life. That thought alone sent his mind wandering again, and he had to admit that the visions he experienced were by no means unpleasant, considering they involved very creative uses for the whipped cream and chocolate fudge in certain areas on Caitlin's naked_—__STOP THAT!_ Hawke grumbled silently again, and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"String?" Caitlin asked him again, now becoming more than concerned.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Cait," Hawke mumbled, wishing he'd never accepted this invitation, "just zoned out again. I feel bad. Here you're being so nice to me, and I'm being lousy company." _Mainly because of things that I've been thinking about __**you**_, he said to himself, then added, _and the fact that you would probably kick my ass if you knew what I've been thinking._

_But, String,_ the positive voice was back again. _Maybe she _**wouldn't **_kick your ass, because maybe__**—**_**just maybe—**_what __you're thinking is exactly what Caitlin wants you to do. There's only one way you're gonna know, Hawke. That is, if you've got the guts._ That thought really made Hawke angry, but at the same time, he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that the voice just _might_ be right. _There _**would be **_only one way to find out._

"You haven't been yourself lately," Caitlin said, ignoring the fact that she was repeating herself, "and I'm worried about you, Hawke. So, I tell you what. Let me finish this—as much as I can—and then I'll take you back to my place and see if I can figure out what's bugging you. Okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled, knowing that being alone with Caitlin, in her apartment, was probably the worst thing that could happen. Just then, as he watched her raise another spoonful of the chocolate and cream concoction to her lips, she said, "Hey, you want some?"

_YES! _Hawke's mind screamed, but he knew he was thinking about something _other _than Caitlin's dessert. "Sure," he mumbled, and helped Caitlin finish off her dessert. Then another thought ran through Hawke's mind. _Going to Cait's apartment is a _**very bad idea. **But, he also knew that if he refused, Caitlin would no doubt begin pushing again, so he relented. As they left after paying the bill, Caitlin shivered in the cool night air. Hawke noticed this and began removing his bomber jacket, but Caitlin shook her head and said, "That's okay, Hawke," as she squeezed herself against him, "I'll just get closer to you." She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned into him.

"Better?" Hawke asked as he slipped his arm around her shoulders, even though now _he_ was the uncomfortable one, even as he tried to stop thinking about how perfectly _natural_ it felt to have his arm around Caitlin, and for her arm to be around him. He also couldn't help but notice how perfectly Caitlin fit against his body, and that thought alone made him more uncomfortable, both emotionally and physically.

"Yeah," Caitlin murmured, smiling. Fortunately, the walk back to the Jeep was a short one, and soon, they were on their way to Cait's apartment.

As they walked up the stairs, Hawke had decided to slip his jacket off anyway, and Caitlin, following him a few steps behind, decided to ask Hawke about something that had been bugging her lately.

"Hawke? Why are you wearing your shirts untucked lately?" Thirty-five days, to be exact, but Cait wasn't about to let Hawke know she'd been counting. _Counting, and looking. Come to think of it, he started wearing his shirts untucked about the same time I started wearing these tighter jeans. __B__ut that's just a coincidence, isn't it? _

"Oh, Le said something about it being a fashion statement," Hawke lied as they reached the top of the stairs and he allowed Caitlin to catch up to him. _I suppose I could ask you why your jeans are fitting tighter these past thirty-five days, Cait. __B__ut I won't. Wouldn't want you to know I've been counting, and looking, _Hawke mused as Caitlin caught up to him.

"Huh. Well, at least he's not interested in what's under there," Caitlin said, and sheepishly smiled as she thought of the denim covered butt that she loved, that was now more hidden from her eyes by the additional hanging material of Hawke's shirt. She was shocked at the intensity of her desire to see Hawke's butt, and _more, _up close, and once again didn't realize what she'd said until it was too late.

"_What?" _Hawke nearly shouted. Caitlin suddenly realized what she'd said. For his part, Hawke was reminded of something Dom had told him and Saint John when they were kids—"_Do__ not operate mouth unless _**brain **_is engaged." And obviously, _Hawke said to himself as they neared Caitlin's door, _Cait's brain hasn't been engaged all day. __W__hich means, she shouldn't be running her mouth the way she has been._

"Um, nothing," Cait stammered, knowing her face was bright red. They walked a few more steps and Caitlin opened the apartment door and turned the lights on.

"Make yourself comfortable, String. I'm gonna get us some water, and then maybe I'll see if I can figure out what's bugging you," she said, heading into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came back with two glasses of ice water, handing one to Hawke, then sitting down next to Hawke. She frowned inwardly when Hawke moved away from her, leaving them at opposite ends of the couch.

_Well. This is not what I intended at all. _She tried to hide her disgust at sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, feeling like a teenager on her first date again. Finally, she turned to him and said, "Hawke? Have I done something to upset you? Not just tonight, but any time?"

"No, Cait," Hawke said, turning to look at her, and once again noticing, and admiring, the shape of her legs in her tight jeans, even though he knew it would only increase his physical discomfort. "I've...I've just had a lot on my mind, that's all." _Most of it concerning you. If it wasn't for this damned curse..._he stopped and considered the situation. Caitlin's life had already been threatened numerous times since she'd known Hawke, and she'd survived each one, mostly with Hawke's help. _Could she have survived all of them—__especially Sawyer, or the hijacking—without __you?_ The voice was back again, and Hawke found himself, against his better judgment, again admitting that it did have a point. _Especially with Sawyer. Cait would be dead now if we hadn't been there so that Airwolf could disarm that bomb. Not to mention when her plane got hijacked. _Hawke tried to shut that memory out of his head, but the voice continued. _If you hadn't hightailed it out of the hangar and gotten Airwolf, Caitlin, and the rest of the passengers and crew on that plane, would all be _**dead **_now. _Once again, Hawke grudgingly acknowledged the accuracy of the thoughts running through his mind, and promised himself he'd at least think about what the voice was trying to tell him. But, it wouldn't shut up. _And, think about this, Hawke,_ the voice continued. _As worried as you are about Cait getting killed if she got involved with you, wouldn't it be worse if you lost her to another man? Wouldn't it hurt just as much, knowing that Cait was with somebody else, when she could be with you all the time?_

Hawke had to admit that this time, the voice was exactly right. And, he knew Caitlin O'Shannessy was a beautiful, desirable woman. _Hell, the evidence of that..._Hawke had to stop himself before he thought, again, of the erection that was throbbing in his pants. He'd seen the way other men had looked at her, and even though he'd never admit it, except _maybe_ to Dom, those looks made Hawke very uncomfortable. Even, he had to admit, to the point of being jealous. _Well, Hawke, _the voice came back. _What are you gonna do? _He sighed quietly and admitted to himself, _I wish to hell I knew._

_I wish _**I **_was what's on your mind, Hawke, like you've been on mine, _Caitlin thought sadly. She'd only started wearing the tighter, darker, and softer blue jeans recently to try to get his attention, as she was desperate for him to make some kind_—__any kind—_of move on her. Caitlin had decided long ago that Hawke was the only man she wanted to make a move on her, and the only man she'd _let _make a move on her after Sawyer. She just wasn't sure how much longer she wanted to wait for him. _If he doesn't make a move soon, I may just have to take matters into my own hands, _she said to herself. Caitlin finally realized the silence was more than she could take, and she said, "Okay, so I'm not ready to call it a night yet, since it's Friday and we don't have anything to do for the next two days. So maybe I'll find a video tape for us to watch." She stood up and walked over to the video tape cabinet and began glancing through the titles there, seductively swaying her hips from side to side as she did so, the lyrics of an Olivia Newton-John song she'd heard on the radio driving into work running through her head. _Come on, baby! Make a move on me! I can only wish,_ Caitlin said to herself with a quiet sigh.

An adventure movie might be just the thing to occupy Hawke's mind, Caitlin thought, but if she wanted him to make some sort of move on her—_which she did—_it might not be a good idea. Romantic comedy was out—too obvious—and drama—with their second job, they had more than enough drama in their lives, so that was out, too. Finally, she said, "I can't think of anything to watch, String. You got any ideas?"

"Oh, I dunno," Hawke said, shaking his head when he realized he could perfectly see Caitlin's rear end, encased in those tight jeans she'd taken to wearing, and the slight side-to-side motion of her hips was driving him insane, even if Cait was completely unaware of it.

"I really shouldn't be so hard on you, String," Caitlin said, oblivious to the double entendre in what she'd just said. Hawke, however, was aware—_painfully _aware—of the double meaning of her words, and made every effort to conceal the betrayal of his body. _Hard on. __Y__eah, Cait. __T__hat about describes it. _Caitlin was saying something else, but Hawke was so absorbed in his own thoughts, he didn't hear anything until the very end of her sentence... "You can't keep it up, Hawke."

_Good grief. _**How many **_bad puns can one woman make? _Hawke asked himself, still trying to conceal the reason he was so uncomfortable, while at the same time thinking to himself, _As long as you're standing in front of me, wearing those jeans and that perfume, and moving like that, Caitlin, keeping "it" up is __**not **__going to be a problem. _Finally, he stood up, thinking maybe if he walked around a little bit, he could ease some of the discomfort he was feeling, not to mention getting Caitlin's sexy behind out of his vision. Caitlin, meanwhile, had picked up a copy of _Brian's Song_ from her cabinet and was just turning around when she smacked into Hawke, which knocked him completely off-balance and sent them both crashing to the floor. Caitlin was able to cushion her impact, mostly with Hawke's body, but Hawke's head all but bounced off the hard floor, the carpeting providing little protection. "Oh, no!" Caitlin yelled. "Hawke? Hawke, talk to me! Are you okay?"

Due to the fact that his head was buzzing and he'd had the wind knocked out of him when Caitlin landed on him, Hawke couldn't respond for a moment. Finally, he muttered "Yeah," not wanting to move for more than one reason. "Yeah, Cait. I'm fine," he lied. _Well, it's not _**exactly **_a lie, _Hawke told himself. He _was_ fine, except for—he decided he'd rather not think about that right now, especially with Caitlin laying across his upper half. _If she moves about five inches, she'll realize why I've been wearing my shirt tails out lately. _Hawke was horrified when he felt her body begin to move, and suddenly, the look on her face told him that she had inadvertently exposed (_this time I'm the one making the bad choice of words, _Hawke later admonished himself) his secret.

When Caitlin moved and felt Hawke's erection as it pressed into her, her face turned bright red—brighter than Hawke could ever recall seeing it. At the same time, she felt the area between her legs, where she'd felt Hawke against her, growing hot and wet. For his part, Hawke hoped his own embarrassment wasn't too obvious, but Caitlin simply smiled and said, "Hawke, it's okay. These things happen. Are you sure you're all right? I mean other than..." She didn't want to say anything else, for fear of embarrassing herself even more than she already had with him.

"Yeah," Hawke grumbled, wishing he could get up, but not wanting to disturb the situation.

"Well, I heard somewhere that things...like this," she stammered, not exactly sure what she was going to say, "can happen with spinal injuries. Maybe...maybe I better call..."

"No, Cait...I'm fine," Hawke said, and shook his head to demonstrate it, both to her and to himself, then wiggled his fingers. "See? No spinal injury. Everything still works. No harm done, except for a headache. So you can stop worrying," he smiled at her, not wanting to admit the other ache he felt, even though she already knew about it. He also knew that his present difficulty had started _long_ before Caitlin dropped him on his ass just then.

_But I _**like**_ worrying about you, Hawke. _Caitlin admitted to herself. "Well, come on," Caitlin said out loud, moving to get off him, but stopping when she felt _him_ beneath her. "This floor's gotta be hard on—Oops. I did it again, didn't I?" She looked away from him, embarrassed.

"You coulda found another way to phrase it, Cait," Hawke said, grinning, hoping that his grin would hide the discomfort he suddenly felt when Caitlin's wet heat pressed against his hard bulge.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, and grinned back at him. "Well, come on. Let me help you get off..." _Oh, geez, _she said to herself. _I really stuck my foot in my mouth with that one._

Hawke grimaced, both at Caitlin's unintentional puns and the feelings he was experiencing. "Cait, we really need to talk about your choice of words," he said, and shook his head again. Caitlin climbed awkwardly off him and stood up, holding out her hand. Hawke took it and pulled himself up as she asked, "Now, are you sure you're all right?"

"I think—I think I bruised my coccyx," String said, remembering something that Saint John had told him Le had said as an excuse to try to get out of gym class last month. String then added with a grimace, "And my neck's getting stiff."

"Your neck's getting stiff, huh? Well, I think we'll just have to work on that," Caitlin said, leading him back over to the couch, "Why don't you sit down here, and I'll go get an ice pack for your coc—cyx," she said, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing, as she realized she'd made yet another bad choice of words, while at the same time thinking about Hawke's "six," _which, in MY opinion, is a "10," _Caitlin said to herself, then she realized what she'd just thought, along with what she'd said earlier. _But, I was just echoing what Hawke said,_ she reminded herself, _so he can't completely blame _**me** _for that one. __B__ut I'll bet he'll try to. _She tried to fight down the feelings that she was suddenly experiencing, but could not ignore the moist warmth that emanated from her very core. _God, I want you, Hawke,_ she said to herself desperately. _And if what I felt a few minutes ago is any indication, I think you want me, too. Well, if you want me, String, I mean—__**really **__want me—then __you can take me. _**All **_of me_, she decided, then added to herself, _like that song says—'Won't you spare me all the charms and just take me in your arms?' Well,_ she sighed quietly, _I can always dream._

"I think I'm all right, Cait," Hawke answered her as he limped over to the couch and sat down, gingerly.

"Well," she said, at least let me get you a couple of aspirin, and some water," and she dashed back into the kitchen. In the short time she was gone, Hawke realized something—_She's __as attractive from the back as she is from the front. Her "six" __is—STOP __THAT!_ He forced himself to pull his mind back out of the gutter when, a few seconds later, Caitlin reappeared, glass of water and two aspirins in hand, but minus the light blue overshirt she'd worn most of the day, revealing a tight, pale blue tank top.

"Here ya go," Caitlin said as she sat down and handed the aspirins, along with the glass of water, to Hawke, even as she noticed his expression. "Sorry. Dripped some water on my shirt back there, so I figured I'd just take it off. You don't mind, do you?"

"Nah," Hawke said, trying to avert his eyes from Caitlin's chest, which was heaving under the tight blue fabric. "I—don't mind." _Damn,_ Hawke said to himself. _Her chest is just as beautiful as the rest of her—__STOP __THAT! _He thought to himself as he took the water and aspirins from Cait. When he was finished, after swallowing the aspirins, he handed the glass back to Caitlin at the same time she moved towards him, which caused the glass to tip in her hands, and spill the remainder of the water over her breasts.

As he watched the damp patch spread across her chest, Hawke muttered, "Oh, fuck me."

Caitlin couldn't believe her ears. That had to have been the worst thing she'd ever heard Stringfellow Hawke say, but she couldn't deny the feelings it had provoked, as she felt the region between her legs grow hot and wet again. Hawke, for his part, was having a very difficult time averting his eyes from Caitlin's damp chest, but when he finally did, he found her studying him intently.

"What?" Hawke grumbled, wishing he could just get the hell out of there and go home, especially after he realized what _he _had just said. _Oh, swell. I hope—__well—maybe __I don't. After all, I said it. _Once he realized exactly _what_ he'd said, Hawke could only imagine the thoughts running through Caitlin's head.

"Was—was that an invitation?" Caitlin stammered, her eyes jumping from his eyes to his lips, and then further south, even as she tried to calm both the voice in her mind and other feelings and desires she was feeling, some for the first time in a long time. _Boy, now I'm glad I took that shirt off, because it is getting _**warm **_in here. _Of course, she knew where the heat was coming from, and she prayed Hawke would understand how much she wanted him.

"Was what—oh—_that,"_Hawke said, his brain finally catching up with what his mouth had said. He hesitated at first, then decided. He smiled and slowly nodded. "I—guess it was—if you wanted it to be." He ignored the warning signals his brain was shouting at him. He had secretly wanted Caitlin—_all _of Caitlin—for a very long time, but had always been afraid because of the curse. _But you know she could kick your ass, _the voice started up again. _Doesn't that mean anything to you?_ He had to admit, grudgingly, that it did. _I have to admit something else, too. I love this woman. I have loved Cait for a long time. I've just been so wrapped up in my own self pity, or whatever you wanna call it, __that I've been ignoring the obvious. _He wondered what her opinion would be if he told her what he felt. _Well...there's only one way to find out, Hawke,_ the voice was saying.

"Oh, I want it to be," Caitlin purred, running her hand along his thigh, "but—only if you're—_up _for it," she grinned, the double entendre in her words totally obvious to her this time, especially since she'd "wanted it to be," and wanted _Hawke, _for a long time. Now, it appeared she might finally be getting her wish. _Hell, Hawke can take me right now, right here, if he decides that's what he wants to do._ _Although my bed would be more comfortable,_ Caitlin said to herself, trying to rein her emotions in, but encouraged by what she saw, and what she'd _felt, _a few moments ago. She just hoped that Hawke would understand how much she wanted him. _A__nd I just hope he wants me the same way._

"Oh, I'm definitely up for it," Hawke grinned as he realized just how fast he'd reacted to her. He hadn't responded to a member of the opposite sex that quickly in a long time, except for the past few weeks.

When he realized where the conversation was headed, Hawke suddenly felt the need to pull the handbrake, even if only temporarily. There was one detail Hawke needed to know. "Cait," he said, trying to slow the movement of her hands, "if this isn't what you want, you tell me. You tell me, _right now. _'Cause once we do this, there's no going back."

"String," Caitlin responded, a sultry look coming into her eyes, "this _is_ what I want. I want _you._ And," she whispered, knowing she had to say what was in her heart, "I love you, String."

_I guess that answers my question, _Hawke said to himself. _Well, there's only one way I can answer her. _"I—I love you, too, Caitlin," Hawke replied, and felt Caitlin's hands begin moving even faster.

When she lifted up Hawke's shirt and glanced underneath, Caitlin giggled. "Fashion statement, my ass," she said, laughing.

"Oh, now we're gonna talk about your ass, are we?" Hawke grinned back at her as he took her in his arms and pulled her body close to his. _Funny, but my butt doesn't even hurt anymore,_ he said to himself, even as Caitlin's body pressed close to his, pushing him further back into the couch.

"Well," Caitlin said as she pulled herself up to reach Hawke's lips, "We can—talk about that later," she whispered, just before taking his lips with her own.

And they did talk about it "later." _Much, much _later.


	2. Chapter 2

_**WHAT** Did You Say? Chap. 2_

A/N – This story was inspired by NettieC's excellent (not to mention hilarious) JAG fic _Once A Pun A Time JAG._

**Knightsbridge**

"Michael...what's up?" Marella asked, unaware that someone was listening to every word she said.

"Marella..._darling,_ whatever do you mean?" Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III asked innocently. Just outside their office, Stringfellow Hawke and Caitlin O'Shannessy stood listening, as the door was open a crack. Hawke knew the door was fully soundproofed..._if it were fully closed and locked_. Hawke wore an expression of shock and recognition at Marella's last comment, while Caitlin's face seemed to be more understanding, albeit confused.

"Just what I said, Michael," Marella continued, her voice becoming low and sultry as she walked towards Archangel's desk. Her eyes took on a look that Michael had become accustomed to seeing more in the bedroom than in his office. "I mean...'what's _up?_'"

Caitlin's face turned beet red at the question, as she recalled asking Hawke the very same thing the previous Friday afternoon. _And, I remember how that turned out,_ she said to herself as she bit her lip to stop the laughter from escaping. Beside her, Hawke's expression was once again the same impassive mask that Caitlin had been so used to until recently...but she could see the beginnings of a smile threatening his lips.

"Nothing, Marella," Michael continued, sliding his chair further forward, to shield his lower body from her view. _Wouldn't want her seeing..._Just then, he caught a whiff of the perfume that Marella was wearing.

"Michael," Marella continued, oblivious to both his expression and the fact that they were being eavesdropped on, "I think you're going soft," she said with a completely straight face. Michael, however, realized that he _hadn't_ gone soft, at least not in the way he thought she meant, and just that brief exposure to Marella's perfume would ensure that he _didn't...and _**wouldn't...**go soft..._at least, for a while. Damn, Marella...why are you doing this to me? Especially here...and now?_

Outside, Caitlin turned to Hawke as they walked over to a pair of chairs, and sat down to wait for Michael. "Do you think they know we can hear them, Hawke?"

"I doubt it, Cait," Hawke replied, shaking his head. "You know as well as I do what Michael gets like when he's concentrating on something. I doubt he even noticed the door didn't close all the way." Hawke knew, of course, that the door to Michael's office was virtually soundproof, but he'd noticed it open a crack when he and Caitlin came in from the outer office.

"Michael," Marella was continuing, "you know you can take me anywhere...anytime...don't you?" Caitlin's jaw dropped almost to her chair at that comment, and Hawke could see her face turning a bright shade of crimson.

"Hawke? Can she actually get away with saying that?" Caitlin wanted to know. "Especially..._here?"_ Marella's comment reminded Caitlin of something that had happened just a few days ago, when everything she'd said to Hawke seemed to come out sounding like some sort of sexual innuendo. _I coulda been arrested for sexual harassment,_ Cait said to herself. _In fact, I'm just damned lucky Hawke didn't...but..._she stopped herself before she remembered exactly what Hawke _had _done that night at her apartment. _That became...the most wonderful night of my life. Not to mention,_ she had to add to herself, _the most enjoyable weekend I've ever had, _when she considered that Hawke had spent literally the entire rest of the weekend with her. _And we spent most of it in each other's arms,_ she remembered.

"Marella," Michael said, shaking his head, "as much as I'd love to take you...right here, right now, as a matter of fact...I just don't think it's a good idea. I mean...with the cameras, and everything...we could get into a lot of trouble." Caitlin turned and noticed Hawke shaking his head, and trying almost as hard as she was not to laugh.

"What is so confounded funny, Hawke?" Caitlin demanded quietly.

"Just wondering if they mean what _we think _they mean," Hawke replied as he turned to face her. "If they do, this could be very interesting for all of us."

"What I wanna know is, how the heck can they get away with saying stuff like that, in an office full of spies?" Caitlin mumbled back. "At least, when we did it..." _Geez. Now they've got _**me** _doing it...again,_ Caitlin said to herself. She had to catch herself as she recalled exactly when they did do "it" on Friday night...

_Cait finally broke the kiss and murmured, "Hawke...I think we'd...be more comfortable...in there," and turned her head towards the bedroom. Without a word, String had stood up, Caitlin still wrapped around him, and carried her into the bedroom. She honestly didn't remember much after that, other than when she told Hawke, "Just...be gentle, okay? It's..."_

"_Your first time," Hawke said, smiling. "I know." And with those words, Caitlin knew she had nothing to fear, and had given herself fully to String. And, he'd given himself fully to her, in return. Later, when it was over, Caitlin had remarked, "Boy, are we gonna have a story to tell Dom tomorrow!"_

_Hawke had simply smiled at her and said, "Yeah...but I think he'll approve." _Hawke knew that Dom had been trying to get he and Caitlin together practically since her plane had been hijacked while she was flying to Texas for her sister's wedding. _Well, Dom...you may be about to get your wish._

"_Very_ funny," Hawke replied, not wanting to lose track of the conversation inside Michael's office, but at the same time, wondering what had just gone through Caitlin's mind. "But true," he added with a smile as he recalled the afternoon when Caitlin's seemingly endless supply of bad, albeit highly suggestive puns had finally broken down the wall he'd built around his heart.

"So, Michael," Marella said, causing both Hawke and Caitlin to refocus their attention, "do you think I've been...I don't know...a little hard on you lately?" Marella asked. She noticed Michael's expression, then realized what she'd said...in fact, she realized what they both had been saying ever since they walked into his office.

"Actually, yes," Michael replied, then added, "but...turnabout's fair play, since I know I've been a little hard on you as well."

"That may be true, Michael," Marella said, leaning toward him, "but I don't mind." She stroked his face lovingly and gazed into his good eye.

_Good grief, Marella,_ Michael said to himself. _I thought you at least had more decorum than _**that.**

Outside, Caitlin and Hawke were both nearly convulsing with silent laughter, and Laura, Michael's prime pilot, had finally noticed their discomfort. "Are you two all right?" She asked, concerned.

"We're okay, Laura," Hawke replied. "Just...wondering what the heck Michael and Marella are discussing in there."

"Me, too," Laura replied, shaking her head, then realizing what Hawke meant. "Yeah...they've sure been throwing the innuendos around, haven't they?" Hawke grinned and nodded affirmatively. "Sometimes I worry about them," Laura continued. "They obviously have feelings for each other...why they don't act on them..." Laura shook her head and sighed as she went back to work.

"Did that sound...I dunno..._familiar _to you?" Caitlin asked Hawke.

"Yeah," Hawke admitted with a smile. "Sounded a lot like something Dom...and Michael..._and_ Marella have all said about us. But," he turned to her and smiled, "at least I figured out how I felt, finally." He placed his hand over hers on the arm of her chair as she smiled at him, then their attention was drawn back to the conversation coming from the office.

"Well...I figured I might as well at least ask," Marella was saying. "I might get lucky, you know." Both Caitlin and Hawke snapped their heads around at that comment, as Hawke remembered hearing almost the same thing from Caitlin.

"I _cannot believe_ she said that," Hawke said, even as he recalled Caitlin saying it just a few days ago.

"That makes two of us, Hawke," Caitlin replied, and the color around her cheeks told Hawke that she was remembering the day she'd said nearly the same thing to him. "But," she added, smiling suggestively at him, "it worked for me, didn't it?"

"Yeah, Cait," Hawke replied, and he knew it was the truth, "it did. Maybe...maybe it'll work for Michael and Marella, too. I think...I think Laura's right. They evidently care a little more about each other than just as co-workers and friends...kinda like we were, up until a few days ago."

"Well," Caitlin said with an embarrassed smile, "yeah. And, I'd like to see Michael happy...and I see that Marella makes him happy, so why not..." She stopped short as she heard Michael's voice again.

"Well...m mm...that feels good, Marella," Michael murmured as she began massaging his neck. "Um...oh, yeah...that's it, right there." He relaxed totally in his chair as Marella's fingers kneaded into his neck and shoulders.

_What on EARTH is going on in there now? _Hawke wondered. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Cait, who had no more idea about what was happening behind the door than he did.

Finally, Hawke had heard enough. He stood up, and motioned for Cait to follow him, throwing the door to Archangel's office open and seeing Marella standing behind Michael's chair, giving him a massage.

"Hawke. Cait? What the hell are you two doing here?" Michael demanded, and Marella moved from behind his chair.

"We could ask you the same thing, Michael," Hawke said with a grin.

"What?" Michael demanded. "Why would you say something like that, Hawke?" Then, he realized that Hawke and Caitlin had just walked right into his office. "Marella...did you forget to lock the door when we came in here?"

"I'm sorry, Michael," Marella said, and Caitlin noticed her blushing, much the same way she had a few days prior. "They must have heard the entire conversation."

"Yeah, Michael, we heard it," Hawke said with a shake of his head. "We just don't believe it. What on _Earth_ were you talking about?"

"Well, Hawke," Michael began as Caitlin and Marella moved to the opposite end of the room, "Marella and I...are..._together."_ The emphasis Michael put on the last word gave Hawke an idea what Michael meant, but he wanted to be sure.

"Together...as in..."

"As in, we've become lovers, Hawke," Michael said with a smile. "I finally realized how much I love Marella...and we're taking the next step."

"So...all that talk was..."

"Yes, Hawke," Michael said, embarrassed. "A little harmless flirting...or at least, it _would _have been harmless, had we locked the door. Honestly, Hawke. We had no idea that you and Caitlin could hear us."

"That's okay, Michael," Hawke said as he shook the master spy's hand. "Good thing there aren't any regulations about employees dating...like in the military."

"True, Hawke," Michael agreed, then added, "but even if there were, all it would take would be my word to overturn them." He smiled, and Hawke knew that Michael meant what he said. _Zeus may be head of the FIRM...but I think Michael runs the show more than Zeus lets on._

"By the way, Michael," Hawke added, a conspiratorial smile on his face, "Cait and I weren't the only ones who heard that...Laura heard every word."

"Terrific," Michael said, and shook his head. "I suppose I'll have to explain this all to her, eventually...or I might get some awfully strange looks the next time she has to fly me somewhere." Michael and Hawke smiled at each other, and wondered what Marella and Caitlin were talking about.

"So, Marella," Caitlin was saying on the opposite end of the room, "Are you and Michael..."

"Is it that obvious?" Marella asked, but the expression on her face was a dead giveaway.

"From what Laura, Hawke and I heard, yes," Caitlin replied. "In fact, some of it reminded me of some things I said to Hawke recently..." Caitlin related the story of how nearly everything she'd said the previous Friday had come out sounding like a sexual innuendo..._which some of them were,_ Caitlin had to admit. Finally, she said, "I can't believe Hawke didn't have me arrested for sexual harassment, but he didn't...in fact, we're finally...together."

"Together?" Marella asked, incredulous. "You mean..._together...together?"_

"Yeah, Marella," Caitlin replied, smiling. "Finally...we're _together, together."_

"Cait...I am _so happy _for you!" Marella said, and hugged her.

"Same here, Marella," Caitlin replied, then added, "if what we heard _does _mean what we think it means."

"It does, Caitlin," Hawke said as he and Michael walked over to them. "Michael just told me."

"Well, congratulations, Michael," Caitlin said, and gave the master spy a friendly peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, Cait," Michael replied. "And from what Hawke has told me, congratulations are in order for the two of you as well. Hawke finally got his head out of his ass about you, Cait? There's got to be a story behind that," Michael laughed, and shook his head.

"Yeah," Hawke replied, smiling. "There's a story behind it, all right. It all started this past Friday. Caitlin started wearing her jeans a little tighter around the hangar...and then on Friday, she said the most unbelievable_ thing_ I have ever heard..." And Hawke began telling the story of Caitlin's series of horrible puns, which had finally broken down the walls he had built up for so long.

"Hawke, all I'm going to say is..._it's about time!_" Michael said when the story was finished.

"That's very true, Michael," Hawke answered with a smile at his friend. "And, I could say the same thing to you."

"Your point is well taken, Hawke," Michael said as he took hold of Marella's hand. "I just have one other question about you two – Does _Dominic_ know?"

"No, not yet," Caitlin admitted, and Michael smiled knowingly and dismissed them. After a round of goodbyes, Hawke and Caitlin headed back to Santini Air, and found Dom waiting for them.

"Dom," Hawke began, noticing the look on his friend's face, "we've got something to tell you."

"_Oh?" _Dom asked, surprised. "What might that be, String? Might it have something to do with where you were this morning, by chance? I waited in front of the cabin for almost an _hour, _and you never came out." Hawke shook his head, thankful that he was not as prone to blushing as Caitlin was, because at that particular moment, he was more embarrassed than he could ever recall being.

Hawke and Caitlin looked at each other, and finally Hawke said, "Well, Dom, it started on Friday afternoon, after you left..." For the next hour, Hawke and Caitlin related the story of what had happened between them over the weekend, including the fact that Hawke had wound up at Caitlin's apartment for the entire weekend. Dom, of course, had laughed through most of it, trying to imagine what Hawke must have felt like each time one of Caitlin's puns came out.

"String," Dom began when he was finished with the story, "that has to be one of the funniest things I've heard in a long time. I wish to heck I coulda seen your face! Cait," he continued, smiling at his younger employee, "I've gotta say, that makes me _really _happy, that String finally pulled his head out of his ass about you!"

"You and me both, Dom," Cait replied. "I just can't believe Hawke didn't have me arrested for sexual harassment."

"Well, Cait," Hawke replied, smiling at her, "I couldn't very well have done something like that, considering what I said after..." He stopped, and Caitlin knew what he was referring to.

"Yeah, String," she answered him, smiling. "That was probably the worst...and yet the _best_ thing I ever heard you say." Dom glanced at String, who simply smiled, but Dom wondered, _What the heck did he _**SAY, **_for crying out loud? I suppose...I suppose it ain't none of my business, but I could always ask Cait about it later._

"So, String spent his weekend with you, Cait," Dom said, and grinned knowingly at both his friends, "But would one of you please tell me where you were this morning?" Dom demanded. "Neither one of you was here when I got here...and, I noticed one of my choppers was missing."

"Well, we decided to go to talk to Michael...and tell him what was going on between us," Hawke explained. "But we got a whole lot more than we bargained for." He spent the next hour describing the scene between Michael and Marella at Knightsbridge. When that story was finished, Dom looked as if he would pass out, he'd been laughing so hard.

"String, between you and Cait, and now Mr. Clean and Marella, I think I've laughed enough today to last me a lifetime!" Dom said, and Hawke nodded in agreement. "But," Dom continued, a sincere smile on his face, "I'm real happy for both you, and Michael, String. You both deserve it."

"Thanks, Dom," Hawke replied, and smiled at Caitlin. "I think so, too."

Finally, Dom's curiosity got the best of him, and while String was running an errand, Dom asked Caitlin what Hawke had said.

"Well," Caitlin began, unsure of how she was going to describe the situation, "I had gone into the kitchen to get him some aspirin and a glass of water, after I knocked him down and he banged his head on the floor. Then, he handed the glass back to me and spilled some of the water across my chest...and he said..."

"He said..._**what? **_Come on, Cait...don't leave me hanging like that!"

_Oh, great. Now Dom's doing it._ Cait said to herself. Aloud, she said, "Dom...he said, 'Oh, fuck me.'"

"He said _that?"_ Dom demanded, incredulous. In all the years Dom had known String, he'd never heard his younger surrogate son say anything worse than the occasional "Dammit," so this revelation stunned Dom.

"Yeah, he did," Caitlin said as she smiled at the memory. "And things...kinda moved fast after that."

"Sounds like it," Dom agreed. "Well, Cait, like I said before, I'm real happy for you guys. Just...promise me you'll take care of him, okay? Especially..."

"Don't worry, Dom," Caitlin replied as she smiled at Dom. "Now that we're together, after everything I went through to get here, I don't plan on letting Hawke go any time soon!" Caitlin knew that Dom was referring to after he passed away, but decided not to depress either one of them by saying anything.

That night, after the hangar was closed, Hawke took Caitlin up to his cabin with him, after she grabbed a few things from her apartment. He also made sure Dom knew that he would be taking one of the choppers up to the cabin, so Dom wouldn't have to fly up in the morning.

"I figure that's the least I could do, considering what happened over the weekend," he told her, and she wasn't about to argue with him. When they went to sleep that night, Caitlin knew that her life, and Hawke's would never be the same again. _And all it took was a few bad puns,_ she said to herself as she felt sleep claim her. _If I'd known that would work, I woulda done it months ago. But that doesn't matter now. Now, Hawke's mine...all mine. And we can start thinking about a life together...someday. _She smiled in her sleep as she snuggled tight against Hawke's body, and imagined what her wedding day to Hawke would look like, here at the cabin. _Someday,_ her mind whispered to her. _Soon. _


	3. Chapter 3

_WHAT Did You Say? Chap. 3_

A/N – This story was inspired by NettieC's excellent (not to mention hilarious) JAG fic _Once A Pun A Time JAG. _This chapter will take place about six months after the events in Chap. 2, and String and Caitlin will have gotten married two months prior to this chapter beginning. The puns don't really start until about the middle of page 4.

_Summary – _Saint John gets a letter from the last person he expected to hear from, and a chain begins again.

**Saint John's Apartment**

_Texas? Who do I know from Texas, for heaven's sake? Well, other than my sister-in-law? _Saint John Hawke stared at the envelope he'd just received, but it gave him no information other than an address in Pope County, Texas. _No name, nothing. This is too weird._ He almost threw the letter away, but something made him stop, and he decided to open it.

_Can't hurt. Maybe somebody wrote Caitlin, and got the wrong address by accident. If that's the case, I'll just give it to her the next time I see her and String._ When he began reading the letter, Saint John realized there was no mistake.

_Dear Saint John,_

_Remember me? Your favorite dance partner at your brother's wedding? _Saint John stopped himself and admitted, yes, he did remember dancing with Caitlin's sister Erin...who had quickly become his favorite dance partner. He continued reading –

_So you're probably wonderin' how I got your address, huh? Well, Cait and I were talking after she and your brother got back from their honeymoon...and I mentioned that I kinda liked you...hope you don't mind...and asked her if she'd give me your address...and of course, she did. _

_Saint John...I do kinda like you. Nah...I don't just "kinda" like you...I _**like **_you...if you know what I mean. _Saint John had to stop himself again. _Does she mean what I **think** she does?_ He had to admit, he found Erin O'Shannessy very attractive. _In fact...I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since String's wedding._ As he continued reading, Saint John winced at a particular line.

_And, I kinda got the feelin' that...that you _**liked **_me, too. I just didn't know how to tell you how I felt...then I decided to take my sister's advice...heck...I might get lucky like she did._

Saint John had to stop reading and laugh as he remembered hearing what his brother had told him had happened eight months ago.

"_What exactly did she say, String?" Saint John had asked his brother while they were both in a chopper together._

"_She was talking about grabbing a bite to eat together, and said, 'I figured I might as well ask...heck...I might get lucky.'" String smiled as he remembered the expression on Caitlin's face._

_Well, Cait...Erin _**is **_your sister, no doubt about that. _Saint John said to himself as he continued to read.

_Anyway, Saint John...I might be heading your way pretty soon...I've been thinkin' a lot about you since Cait's wedding...thinkin' about how it felt with your arms around me...and I'm hopin to feel like that again. Talk to ya soon._

_Love,_

_Erin_

Saint John had to admit, her salutation of "Love," was a little presumptuous, at best. _How can she say she loves me...she barely knows me, for cryin' out loud! But then again...Caitlin did tell me she'd loved String almost from the minute she laid eyes on him back at the hangar, when she told him about Jimmy dying...so I suppose anything's possible. _Just then, the phone snapped him out of his reverie.

"Hello?"

"Saint John?"

"Erin?"

"Yep...and before you ask..."

"Don't think I need to ask, Erin. After all, if Cait gave you my address, why not my phone number, right?"

"Right." Saint John shook his head and smiled. He'd wondered if he'd ever see Erin again after the wedding, and made a mental note to thank Caitlin later.

"So...you get my letter?"

"Yeah...I got it, all right," Saint John replied, a smile on his face. "Was just reading it, as a matter of fact. So...you **"like" **me, huh?"

"Yeah, Saint John...I do. I...I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the wedding."

_This is too weird,_ Saint John said to himself. Aloud, he said, "That's...nice, Erin. I've...I've been thinking a lot about you, too." He could almost hear the excitement on the other end of the phone when Erin said, "I'm glad. What would you think if I came to see you?"

"I think...I think I'd like that," Saint John replied. He hung up the phone and wondered what was going on with Erin. _I mean...I like her, there's no question...but what has she got going on in her mind? Well...I suppose I'll find out someday._

Six weeks later, on a Saturday afternoon, Saint John was at his apartment when someone buzzed him from downstairs. Rather than answer through the intercom, he quickly went down to see who his visitor was, since he wasn't expecting anyone, especially on a Saturday. _I wonder if..._he quickly stopped himself before he finished the thought, as he was wondering if Erin might have come to see him. Their phone conversations had been becoming more and more frequent (_and lengthy,_ Saint John mused to himself as he contemplated his last month's phone bill), and he had begun to realize something...even though he hadn't seen Erin face-to-face since String and Caitlin's wedding, he was in love with her. _I just wonder if she feels the same way about me,_ he said to himself as he recognized the young woman standing in the lobby.

"Erin! What are you doing here?"

"I told you I was coming, silly," she replied as Saint John embraced her. "You forget already?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," he answered her sheepishly. "Must mean I'm getting old."

"Nah...you're not getting older...you're getting better," Erin said, then stopped. "Oh, geez. Did I just say that?"

"Yeah, you did, Erin," Saint John replied, shaking his head. _Oh, boy, _Saint John said to himself. _Guess Cait's not the only one who makes the bad puns._ He couldn't help recalling something Dom had told both he and String when they were growing up – "Do not operate _mouth, _unless **brain **is engaged." _And Erin's brain is quite obviously NOT engaged, _Saint John said to himself.

Saint John decided that if this discussion was going to go any further, he'd prefer it to occur in private, and so he ushered Erin upstairs to his apartment, and grabbed beers for both of them.

"So...what's up, Saint John?" Erin asked, completely ignoring the implication of her question.

_Oh, boy. _Saint John shook his head as he remembered String telling him how Caitlin had asked the exact same question. "Not much," Saint John lied, even though he could feel what was "up" very well. _I just hope it's not too obvious to you, Erin,_ Saint John said to himself as he watched her.

"If you say so, Saint John," Erin replied, allowing her eyes to roam. She couldn't help herself. _Right. Nothing's "up." Looks a little different from where _**I'm **_sitting, Saint John._ "But it looks to me like something is definitely 'up.' So...how's Dom treat you over at the hangar? He's not...too hard on you, is he?"

_WHAT?_ Saint John gasped, nearly choking on his beer. "No...he's not," Saint John replied, sheepishly, thinking of the other connotation of Erin's words. He couldn't deny how attractive Erin was, especially in the tight, pale-blue tank top and knee-length denim skirt she was wearing. Saint John admitted to himself that her outfit showed off her legs, along with..._other_ features...quite nicely.

"That's good," Erin replied, crossing her legs, then added, "Cait tells me Dom can be quite the taskmaster sometimes...wouldn't want him going soft on you." Saint John inwardly winced at that comment, considering he was thinking about something else "going soft" at that moment – _which isn't likely to happen,_ Saint John said to himself, _considering how good you look in that outfit...and that scent you're wearing. _

"So, Erin," Saint John was saying, trying to avert his eyes from her chest, which was straining against the tight fabric of her tank top, "you staying long?"

"I haven't decided," Erin replied, smiling and leaning towards him. "It depends."

"On what?"

"Oh, a lot of things," Erin replied, her eyes gleaming as she adjusted her position on the couch, stretching her legs. "You...feel like something to eat?"

"Yeah," Saint John replied, glad for the distraction. "But, lunch is on me. I insist." They both quickly stood up, and Saint John ushered Erin downstairs to his car after locking the apartment door. A few minutes later, they were sitting in the same restaurant Caitlin and String had been to.

"So...what are you getting, Saint John?"

"Oh, probably a burger and fries," he replied, then added, "I'm not meatless, like String. What about you?"

"Geez, I'm starving," Erin answered him honestly. "Probably a half-rack of barbequed ribs with fries...ooh...and 'Death by Chocolate' for desert."

Saint John managed to keep from screaming, _How the hell can you eat like that, and still have such a hot body?_ He knew that comment would probably get him a fat lip from Erin, so he kept it to himself, thankful that the large tablecloth was hiding his increasing arousal. _This must have been exactly what happened to String,_ Saint John said to himself. _It'd sure make an interesting story. _He and Erin fell into "safe" conversation – Saint John asked how she'd been doing since Caitlin's wedding, and she told him she was all right, considering everything that had gone on in her life. He hadn't meant to pry, but she wound up telling him about how her last boyfriend had been downright abusive. That brought Saint John's temper up, and Erin quickly worked to calm him down, assuring him that it was over, and the guy who did it would be spending a long time thinking about it in prison.

Finally, the waiter arrived with their meals, and Erin was shocked at the platter in front of her. "WOW!" she exclaimed, then added, "look at my rack! Have you ever seen a rack that looks like this?"

Wincing, Saint John replied, "No, Erin, I haven't," and averted his eyes from the other "rack" he was thinking of just then.

Fortunately for Saint John, Erin's mouth and hands were occupied by the food in front of her, which allowed Saint John to concentrate on his own lunch, and also spared him the embarrassment of any further suggestive puns from her.

_Although,_ Saint John said to himself as he ate, _if it worked for String...there's no reason why it couldn't __work for me. But...wouldn't that be weird? Me getting involved with my sister-in-law? What would String think? Hell, what would _**Caitlin**___think?_

_Stop it, Sinj, _another voice sounded in his head, a voice that sounded an awful lot like String. _If Erin's what you want...and _**who **_you want...you should go for it. I did. _Saint John stifled a smile at that, not wanting Erin to know what he was thinking. The voice continued, _Cait and I want you to be happy, Sinj...as happy as we are._

A few minutes later, the waiter reappeared with Erin's dessert, a mountainous concoction of anything chocolate, covered in more hot fudge and whipped cream than Saint John had seen in a long time. That thought alone increased his discomfort, although the visions it produced were by no means unpleasant, as Saint John considered the best ways to use both the chocolate fudge and whipped cream in the best places on..._STOP THAT! _He told himself fiercely.

"Sinj?" Erin said, using the nickname String had called him at the reception, "you okay?"

"Huh?" Saint John replied, shaking himself back to the present and finishing off a few of his fries. "Sorry, Erin. Y'know, I feel bad...here you suggested we have lunch, and I'm being such terrible company...I'm sorry," he said, embarrassed.

"Well, I'll tell you what," Erin responded, smiling, "let me finish this...as much as I can, at least...then we'll go back to your place and I'll see if I can figure out what's bugging you. Okay?" She smiled sweetly, but suggestively, at him.

"Yeah, sure," Saint John replied, even though his brain was shouting warning signals at him. The last thing he wanted was to do something Erin was not ready to do, either physically or emotionally. _That'd be taking advantage of her,_ Saint John told himself, _and that's something String and I have in common – we'd never do that._

"Hey, Sinj," Erin broke his reverie again. "You want some?" She raised another spoonful of the chocolate and cream concoction to her lips as she said it, and Saint John cried out, _YES!_ In his mind, even though he was wanting something _other _than desert. Out loud, he said, "Sure...why not?" and reached for his own spoon.

A few minutes later, after they finished Erin's dessert and paid the bill, Erin and Saint John returned to his apartment to continue their conversation. Saint John was wondering how long he could control himself, sitting and staring at Erin in that short skirt just a few feet away from him.

Erin noticed his discomfort and wondered what Saint John was thinking. _Do you want me, Saint John Hawke? Because I know...I want you. _Erin suddenly found herself wondering what Caitlin and String would think if this progressed where Erin wanted it to. _They'd probably think I was using Saint John to get over...him...but...Cait knows me better than that. Now String, on the other hand...that's another story._

Finally, Saint John stood up, thinking maybe if he walked around a little bit, he could relieve some of the discomfort he was feeling. Unfortunately, he wasn't paying attention as he rounded a corner, and collided with Erin as he came back into the living room, sending them both sprawling to the floor. Erin's impact was mostly cushioned by Saint John's body, but Saint John's head impacted the hard floor.

"Aw, no! Saint John? You all right?" Erin shouted.

Saint John shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and found, even through the buzzing in his head, that he seemed to be okay. He glanced up and found Erin's chest just a few inches away from him, heaving against that tight tank top she wore. "Yeah, Erin," Saint John replied. "I'm...I'm fine." _Well,_ he said to himself, _it's not exactly a lie. I _**am **_fine...except for..._ He decided he'd rather not think about the painful erection throbbing in his pants, hoping that she didn't decide to move. _Because if she moves __about three inches, _Saint John said to himself uncomfortably, _she'll find out something that I'm not too __proud of._

"Well," Erin replied, gazing into Saint John's eyes, "we need to get you up...this floor's gotta be hard on...Oops." She blushed madly as she realized what she'd said.

_Geez...two bad puns in one sentence. _"You coulda found better ways to phrase that, Erin," he replied as he felt Erin begin to move.

_Oh, my,_ Erin said to herself as she moved and felt his erection press against her core, which quickly became hot and wet in response. _God, Saint John...I want you...so bad. And if you want me...the way I think you do...then, you can take me._ She decided as she stood up and held her hand out to him.

Saint John took Erin's hand and pulled himself off the floor, mumbling as he did so, "Geez...my neck's getting stiff." _And that's not the only thing that's 'stiff,' _Saint John admitted to himself.

"Stiff...neck, huh?" Erin replied, her cheeks turning a slight pink as she thought about something else being 'stiff.' "Well, I'll see what I can do about that," she said, and went into the kitchen quickly.

A few seconds later, she came back with a glass of water and two aspirin, which Saint John took with a grateful smile. "Thanks," he said with a smile as he swallowed the aspirin. He took a few sips of water then went to hand the glass back to her. Erin leaned forward at just that moment, and she felt the water hit her chest, spilling across her breasts.

Saint John looked at the wet spot spreading across Erin's chest and mumbled, "Oh, fuck me."

_WHAT?_ Erin's mind screamed. _Did he really just say that?_ Aloud, she said, "Um...was that an invitation, Saint John?"

"Was what an...oh, that," Saint John mumbled, shaking his head as he realized what he'd said. "Um...well...I guess it was, if you want it to be," he said, looking up at her and noticing the expression on her face as she sat down next to him.

"Oh, I want it to be," she purred, running her hand appreciatively along his thigh, "but...only if you're..._up_ for it," she said with a huge grin.

"Oh, I'm up for it, all right," Saint John replied, then realized where this conversation was headed. _I gotta stop this train,_ he thought to himself, even though he wasn't sure if it _could_ be stopped. "But...Erin..."

Erin stopped him with a passionate kiss, pressing against him. When she broke the kiss and pulled back, she said, "No joking around here, Saint John Hawke. I _love you. _The same way my sister loves String. And, for your information, I knew I loved you from the minute I met you at the wedding. I'm not playing around, either. I...I know it seems forward, Saint John...and I understand if you think I'm moving too fast...but..." Her voice broke, and she wasn't sure how she'd react if Saint John turned her down. _I know what I want...and I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you,_ she said to herself. Aloud, she said, her voice coming back to her, "I guess I only have one question Saint John. How do you feel about me? Do you...feel the same way about me that I do about you?" Her eyes betrayed the fear she held in her heart.

Saint John's answer was to stand and pull Erin's body towards him, then allow Erin to pull him into the bedroom. "That answer your question?" He grinned.

"Oh, yeah," Erin replied as they moved into each other's arms. Saint John thought to himself, _Boy, are we gonna have a story to tell String and Cait tomorrow. _He was surprised that things had moved this fast, but when he considered how things had started between his brother and Caitlin, he wasn't surprised at all. He finally murmured to her, "Erin...I love you, too." Erin simply smiled and drew their bodies together, and there was no more time...or opportunity...for either of them to speak.


	4. Chapter 4

_WHAT Did You Say? Chap. 4_

A/N – This story was inspired by NettieC's excellent (not to mention hilarious) JAG fic _Once A Pun A Time JAG. _This chapter will take place about six months after the events in Chap. 3, and close out this little story arc. Hope you've enjoyed it. – robertwnielsen

_Summary – _Dom runs into an old friend...and a chain begins all over again.

_Why did she ask String to fly her to his cabin?_ Dom remembered asking himself a few weeks after the "Fortune Teller" mission, when Archangel, along with two other men, had been kidnapped by a man who wanted the "Fortune Teller" device, which could transform any aircraft or helicopter into a high-performance combat aircraft. Even now, three years later, he could still hear that exchange.

"_So, how about flying me up to your cabin, to meet your dog, Tet...and take me fishing?"_ Megan Ravenson had asked Hawke. Megan was a psychic, and friend of Dominic's, who had helped them rescue Archangel.

"_Are you kidding? He'd love to! Why, he's one of the best fishermen..."_ Dom had said, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice. He knew Megan was awfully young, especially compared to him, but he also knew that String, even though he refused to admit it at that point, had feelings for Caitlin. _And I've got feelings for Megan,_ Dom remembered saying to himself.

_Wonder if he ever did it,_ Dom asked himself, then realized what he'd just thought. _Not "did it" like that! _He told himself sharply, remembering what String had told him had happened about a year previously.

_I still can't believe that actually worked,_ Dom said to himself, shaking off his own bad pun, even as he recalled hearing how a string of bad puns from Caitlin had done what no other woman seemed to be able to do – finally get Stringfellow Hawke to acknowledge his feelings.

Just about the time Dom was getting ready to head out for lunch on a Saturday afternoon, the phone in his apartment rang.

"Hello?" He answered, almost out of breath, as he had run back inside after hearing the phone ring.

"Dom?" The voice at the other end sounded instantly familiar. "You okay? What's up?" Megan Ravenson innocently asked, unaware of the reaction her voice had precipitated in her friend.

"Nothing, Megan," Dom said, glad that she couldn't see exactly what _was "_up." _If she could see me,_ Dom said to himself, embarrassed, _she probably wouldn't ever wanna talk to me again._

"You sure about that, Dom?" Megan asked, the concern in her voice obvious to him. "You sound out of breath, or something." _Or something...yeah. That about covers it,_ Dom said to himself.

"Yeah, Megan," Dom replied out loud. "I'm fine...so, what's on your mind?"

"You," Megan answered honestly. Dom did a double take, and pulled the receiver from his ear for a minute. _Did she say, "You?" Meaning... "me?" _Dom asked himself, incredulous.

"Yeah, Dom," Megan said, and Dom cursed himself for forgetting that his friend was psychic. "I meant 'you' when I said 'you', silly. I...I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since..."

"Since we saw each other last, right?" Dom asked, knowing he didn't want to mention Airwolf, or anything connected with the Fortune Teller mission, on a line that he knew wasn't secured.

"Right," Megan replied, sensing that Dom was thinking about something else. "I just...I miss you, Dom. Would you mind if I took you out to lunch?" She asked, and held her breath waiting for the answer.

Dom hesitated a minute before he answered. "No, Megan...I think...I think I'd like that," Dom replied, smiling.

"Great," Megan said, and Dom could hear the smile in her voice. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Twenty minutes later, Dom was sitting watching TV when he heard a knock at his front door. He opened the door and found Megan standing there, smiling at him.

"Hey, Dom," Megan said with a smile, "What's up?"

_Terrible choice of words there, Meg,_ Dom said to himself, knowing she'd probably pick up on what he was thinking. He knew very well what was "up." _The same thing that was "up" when I heard your voice on the phone._ "You asked me that before, Megan," Dom said, shaking his head as he invited her inside, "but still...nothing." _At least, nothing I want to talk about,_ he said to himself, hoping that she couldn't see the physical evidence that he was lying.

Even though Dom knew there were several years between himself and Megan Ravenson, he couldn't deny how pretty she was. _And that's part of the problem,_ Dom said to himself, knowing that he'd recently allowed his mind to travel to a place that it quite honestly shouldn't have gone...a place that involved Megan standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a smile. Or, laying on her back in his bed...wearing nothing but her smile.

"So," Megan said, ignoring the vibes she was getting from Dom, "you ready?"

"Huh?" Dom said, knowing that what he was thinking was probably the _last _thing on Megan's mind.

"For lunch, silly boy. Remember?"

"Oh," Dom said, embarrassed. "Yeah. Let's go, Meg!" Dom smiled warmly at her as they locked up his front door, then Megan linked her arm through Dom's as they walked out to her car, and shortly, were on their way to a small restaurant not too far from the hangar.

It didn't take long for them to get seated, and Megan asked, "So, what do you want to eat, Dom?"

"Oh, probably a burger and fries," Dom replied. "You?"

"God, I'm starved," Megan said, then continued, "I'll probably get the baby back ribs, with fries...and maybe...ooh...no, _definitely..._Death By Chocolate for dessert." She grinned, almost swooning at the description she'd just read.

Dom just about bit his tongue straight through, trying to keep a thought from escaping his mind. _How the hell can you eat like that, Meg, and still have such an amazing body?_ He didn't know what to say, so he did what he considered the safest thing – he said nothing at all.

_Dom,_ Megan said to herself sadly, _why can't you understand how I feel about you?_ She had loved Dominic Santini for a long time..._almost as long as Caitlin was in love with String, before he finally smartened up. _That was part of the reason she'd asked to take Dom out for lunch – _maybe...maybe I can get through his head how I feel about him,_ she said to herself.

While they waited for lunch, their conversation was easy, and safe – Megan asked Dom how String and Caitlin were doing, and Dom replied they were doing okay, and he was wondering how long it was going to be before there was a baby on the way.

_Hang in there, Dom,_ Megan said to herself at Dom's mention of a baby. _It's not gonna be long. _Just then, the waiter brought their meals, and Megan was genuinely shocked at the platter that she received.

"Wow!" She exclaimed as she looked over the mountain of food. "Look at my rack! Have you ever seen a rack that looks like this?" She asked, incredulous.

Trying to avert his focus from another "rack," that was actually more what he'd been thinking about, Dom choked on his Pepsi and said, "No...no, I haven't, Meg." He knew that if she sensed what he was thinking about, Megan would probably want to kick his ass, so he kept quiet and dug into his lunch.

Fortunately for him, Megan's hands and mouth were also occupied by the meal in front of her, so they were both spared any more embarrassing puns, at least for a while. At the same time, Dom couldn't deny the feelings he was experiencing, and he was glad for the large tablecloth hiding his increasing arousal. Once they were finished with lunch, the waiter reappeared with Megan's dessert, a mountainous concoction of mud cake, chocolate fudge, and whipped cream, which was making Dom even more uncomfortable, as he had visions of another use entirely for both the chocolate sauce and the whipped cream...along with Megan's naked..._STOP THAT!_ Dom told himself, even as he hoped his feelings weren't obvious to his psychic friend.

_Does he feel the same way about me, that I do about him? _Megan asked herself as she ate. She thought she had a pretty good idea about the "vibe" she was getting from Dominic, but she also knew that her psychic abilities had been wrong before. _I was just glad they weren't wrong about Michael,_ she said to herself, remembering when she'd "felt death" during that adventure. _That's not a feeling I ever want to experience again. _But the feelings she was getting from Dom were..._confusing. I can't put my finger on what he's thinking,_ Megan said to herself, _and that bothers me._

"Dom?" Megan asked, suddenly concerned, "you okay?"

"Huh?" Dom said, realizing what he'd just been thinking about, and hoping like hell that Megan hadn't picked up on it. "Yeah, Meg...I'm fine," he shook his head to clear the naughty thoughts that had invaded his mind. "Sorry...just had a lot on my mind, that's all."

_I wish _**I **_was on your mind, Dom...like you've been on mine lately,_ Megan said to herself sadly. She had thought a lot about Dom in the years after the Fortune Teller adventure, and wished that he'd seen how much she cared about him. _Heck...I only asked String to fly me up to the cabin to try to make Dom jealous...even then, I knew he only had eyes for Cait. But I guess...I guess it didn't work,_ she finished sadly.

Finally, Megan said, "Hey, Dom...there's no way I'm gonna be able to finish this on my own. You want some?"

_YES! _Dom's mind screamed, none too politely, knowing that he was thinking entirely of something other than Megan's dessert. As he watched her raise another spoonful of the mud cake and cream concoction to her lips, he mumbled, "Sure," then picked up his own spoon to help her finish off her dessert.

"Dom...you haven't seemed like yourself today," Megan said. "You sure you're okay?" _I'm getting some awfully interesting...and _**confusing**_...vibes from you. _"I'm worried about you."

"Nah, it's nothin', Meg," Dom said with a smile, even as he tried to stifle the thoughts burning in his mind. "Sorry...y'know, I feel bad...here you took me out to lunch and I'm bein' such terrible company."

"I tell you what," Megan said. "Let's finish this...as much as we can...and then, we'll go back to my place and I'll see if I can figure out what's bugging you...okay?" _And maybe...we can do some other things...if Dom's "up" for them,_ Megan said to herself, knowing the double entendre in her thoughts.

As they walked out of the restaurant after Megan paid the bill, she shivered from a cold breeze. Dom moved to slide out of his jacket, but Megan pushed it back onto him, coming closer and saying, "That's okay, Dom...I'll just get closer to you. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, looking up at him and smiling.

"No, Meg," Dom replied as he slipped his arm around her shoulders, even as he felt hers around his waist. "I...I don't mind." He tried not to think about how..._natural_ it felt to have her against him like this, knowing that those thoughts would only serve to make an uncomfortable situation that much worse. _And it's not working,_ Dom said to himself when he felt his undeniable physical response actually increase in intensity. Fortunately for him, the walk across the parking lot was a short one, and they were on their way back to Megan's apartment in short order.

As they walked through the front door to Megan's building, she made a beeline for the stairs, and Dom said, "Something wrong with the elevator?"

"Huh? Yeah, the maintenance guy took it down yesterday," Megan grumbled, obviously unhappy about the turn of events. As they climbed the stairs towards her front door, Megan decided she'd ask him about something she'd noticed.

"Dom...you wearing your clothes different? I don't remember you wearing your shirts out like that," she said.

"Huh?" Dom asked, then realized what Megan had said. "Oh...String said Le told him it was the hip thing to do...so I thought I'd try to be a little more...'with it,' or whatever kids Le's age say these days."

"Oh," Megan said, and Dom thought he heard a trace of sadness in her voice. "Well...at least Le's not interested in what's under there," Megan said, completely oblivious to what she'd said.

Dom, however, was not as oblivious. _"WHAT did you say?" _He demanded, even as he remembered something he told both String and Saint John when they were about Le's age – "Do not operate _tongue,_ unless _**brain **_is engaged." _And I don't think Megan's brain is engaged,_ Dom said to himself, shaking his head, _which means, she shouldn't be running her mouth the way she has been._

_You're right, Dom,_ Megan said to herself, the vibes coming from Dom suddenly crystal clear. _My brain _**isn't **_engaged...except about you._ Aloud, she stammered, "Um...I...I'm sorry, Dom. I dunno what I was thinking," she lied.

_Aha, right. And I'm Leonardo da Vinci,_ Dom said to himself. He knew he didn't need Megan's psychic abilities to figure out that she'd just told him a major fib. _The question is, WHY did she do it?_ Dom asked himself as they reached her apartment door and walked inside. Megan quickly disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with two glasses of ice water, handing one to Dom. She quickly noticed that Dom sat down at the opposite end of the couch, and she frowned inwardly.

_Well. This is _**not**_ what I intended, at all,_ Megan said to herself, suddenly feeling like a fifteen-year-old girl on her first date again. The vibes she was picking up from Dom told her that he was having trouble with something, but she couldn't quite figure out what that "something" was. She got up and walked towards her video tape cabinet, saying, "Well...I'm not quite ready for this afternoon to end, so maybe...maybe I'll find something for us to watch." She began searching through the titles in her cabinet. A good action or adventure movie might keep Dom's attention focused on the movie, rather than on _her,_ which was where she wanted it. Romantic comedy was _definitely _out – too obvious, and Megan figured Dom had enough drama in his life, so that was out, too. She continued searching through her collection, unconsciously moving from side to side in front of Dom, swaying her hips ever so subtly.

Dom was entranced by the vision in front of him – the way Megan was moving was hypnotic, and he found himself thinking, _screw watching a movie...I'm watching something much better right now!_ He stopped himself, hoping like hell Megan hadn't picked up on his thoughts – but she turned towards him just then and said, "Dom...you like what you see?"

"Huh?" Dom asked, trying to snap himself back to reality. "What?"

"I said," Megan repeated, "do you like what you see?" She turned back towards the video cabinet again.

"Yeah, Meg," Dom said, embarrassed. "I have to admit...I like," he mumbled, deciding he needed to take a walk.

Megan had no idea that Dom had gotten up off the couch, and she'd just picked out her copy of _Brian's Song,_ figuring Dom had to be a sports fan. _Besides...Brian Piccolo was Italian, just like Dom. _When she turned around, Megan noticed the couch was empty. She walked towards the bedroom, just as Dom turned the corner coming from that direction, and they collided with each other. Megan's landing was soft, thanks to Dom's body cushioning the impact. Dom's, however, was not, and she heard his head smack against the hardwood floor.

"Dom? Dom!" Megan screamed, suddenly very worried. She relaxed a moment later when she saw Dom's eyes open, and she asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah, Megan," Dom said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious when he noticed her sprawled across his body. _If she moves about six inches either direction, she'll realize why I've got my shirt tails out._ "I'm...I'm okay. Just...stay put for a minute." He began trying to figure out how he could get both of them to their feet without revealing his embarrassing secret.

Just at that moment, Megan moved to try to get her entire weight off Dom's body, and she realized why his shirt tails were out. _Oh, my,_ Megan thought to herself as the region between her legs grew warm and wet in response to what she'd just discovered. Megan turned to Dom and saw the embarrassment plastered all over his face. _It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Dom. I want you, too._ Aloud, she said, "Hey, Dom...it's okay. I read somewhere that things...like this...can happen with a spinal injury. Maybe I should call..."

Dom shook his head, saying, "Nah, Meg...I don't have a spinal injury. See?" He wiggled his fingers and moved his feet to demonstrate that things all seemed to be working. "Everything's still A-okay, except for this headache." He grinned up at Megan, trying to avert his gaze from her lovely face, and also thinking about...the _other ache _that was bothering him.

"You're sure?" Megan prodded, not wanting to acknowledge that it was her presence that had Dom that way.

"Yeah, Meg, I'm sure," Dom replied. For a few minutes, Megan waited for him to let her go so that she could get up, but Dom didn't seem to be in any big hurry to change their positions. Two or three times, she thought he was about to say something, then, it appeared he changed his mind at the last minute.

"Okay, Dom...enough of this...time to get you off this floor...this has to be hard on..." She stopped, her cheeks turning a slight pink as she realized the double entendre in what she'd just said. "Oops. Sorry about that, Dom," she said, embarrassed.

"Well, you coulda found a better way to phrase it, Meg," Dom admitted as she moved off him, and he tried to avoid all eye contact with her. _I'll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again,_ he said to himself.

_Don't you worry about that, Dominic Santini,_ Megan said to herself in response to the vibe she'd picked up from him. _I'll still talk to you...in fact...there's a lot more than just talking that I'd like to do._ Aloud, she said, "You okay?"

"My head's okay...I'm a hard-headed Italian boy, you know that," Dom said with a grin. "But, I think my neck's getting a little stiff."

"Stiff neck, eh?" Megan replied, grinning at him. _Something else is 'stiff,' too...but we'll discuss that later._ "I'm sure there's a treatment for that. So...can you get yourself up, or do you need...oh, crap. I did it again, didn't I?" Megan burst out laughing in spite of the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Yeah, Megan," Dom said, chuckling, even as he noticed the tears in Megan's eyes. "You did it again." Her laughter was sending shock waves through Dom's body, which only served to increase his physical discomfort.

"Sorry, Dom," Megan said as she climbed off him. "I don't mean to make this any harder on you...oops."

_Good grief,_ Dom said to himself. _How many bad puns can one woman make?_ He shook his head again as he felt Megan move off him, then slowly, he stood himself up.

"You sure you're okay, Dom?" Megan asked, the worry obvious in her eyes. "You didn't hurt anything?"

Dom stopped for a minute to consider how he would answer her. Truth was, his butt hurt like hell...and then, there was the _other_ pain he was dealing with, but he decided to go with the safe answer, one that Saint John told him Le used once to try to get out of gym class. "I think...I think I bruised my coccyx."

_Your "six," as you might put it...is a ten, Dominic Santini,_ Megan said to herself. Aloud, she said, "You want me to get some ice for your coc...cyx?" She tried to keep the laughter out of her voice when she said it, but knew she'd failed miserably.

"Nah, I'll be fine," Dom said as he eased himself back onto the couch.

"Well, let me get you a couple of aspirin and some water, at least," Megan insisted, dashing into the kitchen. Dom recalled how Caitlin had told him things had evolved between her and String, three years ago, and wondered to himself if the same thing was happening now. Just then, Megan came out of the kitchen with another tall glass of ice water, but Dom noticed something different.

"Sorry, Dom," Megan said, embarrassed. "Sprayed myself with a little water, so I decided to just leave my shirt in the kitchen," she continued, and Dom noticed that she was wearing a tight blue-green tank top. "You don't mind, do you?" She asked, handing the glass of water and aspirins to him.

"Nah," Dom answered her, even as he tried to focus his attention away from her chest, "I don't mind." He found himself mesmerized by the movement of Megan's chest underneath the tight fabric. He quickly swallowed the aspirin, and after taking a drink of water to wash them down, Dom moved to hand the glass back to Megan, at the same instant that she moved forward herself. They wound up bumping into each other, and the glass tipped, spilling the water onto Megan's tank top and down between her breasts.

"Ah, fuck me," Dom said without thinking as he watched the damp patch spread.

_WHAT_ _?_ Megan thought to herself. _Did he...did he really just say that?_

"What, Meg?" Dom asked when he noticed her expression, even though he was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from her chest.

"Um...Dominic...was that an invitation?" Megan stammered.

"Was what...oh..._that,_" Dom said, finally realizing what he'd said. "Well...I suppose it was...if you wanted it to be."

"Oh...I want it to be," Megan said as she ran her hand along his thigh, "but...only if you're..._up_ for it," she continued, a seductive smile crossing her lips.

"Oh, I'm definitely _up_ for it," Dom replied, knowing that he hadn't reacted this quickly to a member of the opposite sex in a long time...at least, until today. _But..._Megan thought to herself, _Dom's still worried about...about what I said to String that time. _"Dom...I didn't mean anything when I asked String to fly me up to the cabin," Megan said, shaking her head. "I only did that to try to make you jealous. Even then, I knew he had eyes for Caitlin," she added.

"Really?" Dom asked, surprised. "Megan...before we do...anything...I just need to know – if this isn't what you want...you tell me...you tell me right now."

"Dom," Megan breathed, her voice becoming decidedly sultry, "this _is_ what I want. I want _you._ And...Dominic Santini, I love you," she added, and the fear in her eyes was obvious to Dom.

Slipping his arms around her and drawing her closer to him, Dom replied, "I love you, too, Megan Ravenson." Just then, Dom noticed Megan lifting up his shirt tails and gazing down appreciatively.

"Le said it was a fashion statement? My ass," Megan said with a grin as she leaned closer to Dom.

Smiling as he eased backward, Dominic said, "Oh...now we're gonna talk about your ass, huh?"

Megan slid up to reach his lips and whispered, "Well...we can...talk about that, later." She didn't hesitate anymore before taking Dom's lips with her own, and there was no more time, or ability, for either one of them to speak.


End file.
